


"Haunted"

by MrsKohakuSato



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is suffering real bad here, Blood and Gore, C-Section, F/M, Forced C-section, Lotor has a vague oedpius complex, Major gore warning, Nightmares, Pregnancy, This is like super depressing, Unplanned Pregnancy, brief nudity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-02 15:22:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16789606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsKohakuSato/pseuds/MrsKohakuSato
Summary: She thought that after he was gone, she would forget. That it was all over. At least, she liked to pretend that it was all over, that she healed, and it was all  done, gone, much like Altea had become dust to the cosmos.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “My baby!” she cries “give me back my child! That's my child! Give him back!” tears are bellowing down her cheeks, hot and warm. Haggar doesn't answer her, as she moves away, but she feels someone hovering over her, her eyes wide with grief snap up to greet amber, and amethyst. 
> 
> “Lotor….” their crying child sobs echo off the walls, as he bores into her silent and heavy.
> 
> “Why do cry, Allura?” 
> 
> “My baby..” 
> 
> “Why do you care?” 
> 
> “What-why-” 
> 
> His face contorts, twisting in something she cannot name “why do care?” he snarls “the child is partial galra.” 
> 
> “Why does that matter” her voice rises.
> 
> “I thought it did” he sneers “the child right before your eyes is as tainted, as I am to you. I'm no better than Zarkon, remember” 
> 
> “No.” she shakes her head “no.” 
> 
> “It is.” he says with finality.
> 
> “No.”
> 
> The baby is plopped into his arms, his eyes glances to him or she, and there's a painful gleam in his handsome face, he casts her look, as if he had lost all hope for her, and with that with their child he walks away.
> 
> No. No. No! No! 
> 
> “Lotor!” 
> 
> He doesn't answer.
> 
> “Lotor! Lotor! Lotor! Lotor!” 
> 
> The door shuts behind him, as it snaps her eyes snap wide staring into the ceiling of her room, tears spilling over the rim of her eyes, slowly, shakily her hands fall to her belly.
> 
> Their still there.
> 
> Their still there.
> 
> We were meant to be together! 
> 
> Lotor still haunts her both inside and out.

She thought that after he was gone, she would forget. That it was all over. At least, she liked to pretend that it was all over, that she healed, and it was all done, gone, much like Altea had become dust to the cosmos.

 _We were meant to be together!_ his voice, ever so desperate still haunts her, she can still hear it as clear as day, as clear as the blue skies of Earth. She finds herself flinching at the shadows, sometimes expecting him to just walk right out. But, Of course he never does.

Sitting at the table for dinner, she always finds herself drawn to the door, everybody’s here, laughing and chatting away, and yet she kept looking towards the door, expecting Lotor to just walk right in to join them. She expects his tired gaze to fall upon her, all full of a heated, intense warmth that girlishly embarrasses her.

She bites her lip, and peers away, but, of course dinner ends, and no one comes, the door remains tightly sealed.

No one’s coming, she reminds herself. He isn't here, though she feels as though he were.

* * *

As, they work upon building a new Castle ship, she finds herself, constantly looking over her shoulders she expects Lotor to be right behind her quiet, with his chin tucked between his fingers as he analyzes and studies the compartments of the ship, occasionally making suggestions or inquires about what should be done next. Though, he never stood to close, she still felt a odd sort of heat upon her backside, as his hand came unknowingly to perch itself upon her shoulder.

“Hey, your smiling?” a voice, male, but distinctly lacking in eloquence, snaps her from his thoughts.

She froze, turning to Hunk, who was working besides her “What?”

“I said you were smiling, you haven’t exactly been all rainbows and sunshine lately. It’s good to see you looking happy again” She turns away, as Hunk glances back to his computers, her smile falls, melts right off her face.

Hunk is non the wiser.

* * *

Her paladin’s think she’s over him, that he no longer has a place in her heart. Lance especially, his flirting has been given rise lately, and she finds herself unable to rebuke it. She isn’t sure why, perhaps, she had given up on even conjuring any willpower to shove him away.

No one speaks of Lotor, it’s as if he’s a bitter after taste in everyone’s mouth. But, one day, the conversation at the dinner table, he had been spit up, regurgitated unwillingly.

“Why even bring him up” she heard Keith mutter. She hardly been listening.

“Man, I still can’t believe we let ourselves be tricked by him, bummer” Hunk bemoans.

“As, the saying goes, the apple doesn’t fall to far from the tree.” Pidge shrugged.

“Well, now you guys should know that my instincts top of the notch, I knew we shouldn’t have trusted the bastard, but would you guys listen, nooo.. and now look we have to build a whole new ship because of him”

Allura feels like she’s drowning being forced underwater, like everything is echoing, and she isn’t actually sitting here, talking with her friends. Her appetite wanes with each jab barb towards Lotor. A part of her, wants to snap and defend him, and the other is asking if she had lost her mind. He had killed her people, he had murdered innocents, he deserved no such thing. The night continues, and she finds herself feeling like she wants to vomit.

* * *

She’s being held underwater, the liquid fills her lungs, and nostrils, she can’t breathe, as she thrashes to be released, she claws, and screams, sputtering, and choking, but soon enough she being submerged underneath it again, breaking through the surface, as water flushes her mouth and nose. She kicks, and flails to no avail, and as her body gives way, she lifted up, finding blearily, large hands wrapped around her throat, piercing lilac eyes bore into her, it’s Zarkon looming above her, just standing, just staring, as his hands squeeze and squeeze, and air seeps through her yelps, and shouts, but his image flickers, and his eyes are no longer lilac, but amber, and the texture of the hands are familiar against her flesh.

“L-Lotor” her hand reaches towards him, but the light is dimming, and before she knows it, she finds herself vomiting what little dinner she had eaten that night.

She awakes, her body void, naked, bared before him, her body wanting, and needy, she mewls, as his nose trails the length of her neck, in slow tandem, burning goose flesh upon her skin, she squirms and wiggles beneath, enjoying the warmth and weight of his body. His thumb ends up caressing her markings, a knuckle brushing underneath her eye. He is as she remembered him, tall, and elegant, gentle, and loving, as the tired lines that adorn his face wrinkle as he smiles down on her.

“My darling, my lioness” he whispers.

-and the next think she knows, his hands are embraced around her neck, and all the love, and delicate care morphs into cold dread, her chest heaves, as oxygen denies her.

“Lotor!” she attempts to scream, but it is no use “What are you doing!” she clamors, harshly.

“Why!” his eyes have lost his cold collectiveness, instead there is wild, feral eyes, his pupils completely dilated to slits “Why, I had given you everything! I trusted you! I had given you all that had! So why! So why! Why were you so quick to distrust me!” he bellows, madly.

His grip tightens “I thought you would never hurt....I thought you would never betray me, I thought you different, when you were just like everyone else in my life!” his voice breaks, her fear is replaced by silent horror, the guilt rams the air right out of her lungs “I’m just like Zarkon” he whispers, he laughs wildly, dryly, as lowers her head.

Droplets fall upon her bare breasts, wet and warm against her cold body, her eyes lift slightly to see that they were not water.

He’s crying, the tears fall without a shred of remorse or dignity “Is all that I am to you, just a thing to be used, and tossed away...”

This time she doesn’t wake with a start, only tears spilling over the corner of her eyes and onto her sheets.

* * *

The crying gets worse by the day, every little thing, every minor convenience was rot with tears. Of course, her paladins didn't know, as once she felt the episode come along, she’d find a closet to lock herself in, to hide, and to cry, and sob until she no longer had the strength any more.

Lotor stops appearing in her dreams, but his words and his voice still ring in her ears. Lance’s flirting gets annoyingly worse, and more blalant, she’s at a loss on what to do. She finds herself too tired to deal with him, and the mess that follows Lotor’s forced abdication. The galra forces, as shattered, and as broken as they are still attack time from time.

And this particular day it’s a hellish noise, the Galra fighters fight like it’s their last, and through it all Voltron wins through the skin of their teeth, as the last one was shot down and captured.

A Galra by the name of Tkar, the commander of the ship was held in custody, however as the days passed he refused to speak to no one, nothing made him crack, or speak a word, until someday, he requests her, specifically.

The hatred in his eyes, startles her to her core, but she stands strong, and still, as they were alone, he requested her and no other, as she sat across him from the perch of his confinements.

She parts her lips to speak only to be cut off sharply.

“Are you happy, Princess of Altea” the venom leaks from his tongue.

“What?” her voice feels weak.

“I said are you happy?”

“What would I have to be happy about?”

“That you’ve finally had your vengeance”

“Vengeance!” A anger boils “You attack us-”

“Voltron is nothing more than a farce!” he blurts “Where were you! I thought you were on our side! I thought Voltron was the protector of the universe, to defend the innocents, and yet you have slayed our emperor and have left us leaderless!”

The brief anger simmers, her eyes wide, and her body shook “My people are lost! We have no one to turn to for guidance! Everything is in shambles, people riot in the streets, we’re losing our planets one by one, quintessence as well as our basic necessities are scarce! It’s like hell, a cold miserable hell..” he murmurs “superstitions follow,some believe it’s your wrath against our people manifested.” he cracks a smile, but she knew enough that it was not one.

“Is this want you wanted, is this your vengeance upon us, for the sins of my ancestors? Have been so embroiled in hatred of Zarkon that you have become the very tyrant you condemned princess” and like his voice, like Lotor’s it’s breaking. She’s breaking, everything's falling, and shattering to pieces before her. She has no words, no consolations, no speeches to give, for she had failed to foresee the consequences of her actions.She quickly, leaves unable to stomach anything anymore, she hears Lance call for her, but she ignores his pleas, as she rushes to the bathroom, and hurls whatever her stomach didn’t digest.

White knuckled, her body exterting, and trembling, as her stomach forces bile from her stomach, she heaves, and sputters, her voice gasping and raw, as tears rolled down her dark cheeks. She feels so sick, so lost, so unlike herself, as if she were someone else entirely.

She finds a hand on her back, to small to be Lotor’s, it’s Pidge, rubbing circles upon her back, neither woman says a word, nothing is said as the sun dips, and falls behind the horizon.

* * *

  
Lotor visits her again. This time he's a child, the room, if you call it that was a void of dark space.

“Why did you leave me?” his voice is so small, he's so small, and tiny. His short hair brushes against his baby cheeks.

“Lotor…?” she reaches for him, he backs away.

“Why do you look at me that way?” he murmurs.

“I-”

“Why did you throw me away” soft tears boil forth “I thought you loved me?”

“I-”

“I thought you loved me!” He snapped “Do you have any idea what it feels like to be betrayed! My mother didn't want me! My father hates me! No one wants me!” he cries. The tears are hot, running down his little face, his fists clenched at his sides.

“Why! Why!?Why!?” he grits his teeth, bringing his fists to shield his grief stricken face. His body quakes with pitiful sobs, as he curls in on himself.

“I-” she has no answers. She never does in these dreams.

And when she had tried to reach for him, she's awake , sat upon and sobbing loudly into her hands, so loud they echo off the steal walls.

* * *

She meandered the halls, in search of a person. Coran and Romelle had taken to earth quite well, their always off to in search of adventure.

“My you look awful” It was Lance’s sister, Veronica is it, at least she hopes that her name.

“Hello,”

The woman quirks a brow “is there something I can help you with?”

“I-I” she sounds like a idiot, but she supposed she should cut straight to the point “I need a scan- I mean is there a place where I can get a body scan?” she has to remember, Earth technology isn’t nothing like that of Altea or Galra. Things are worded so much differently here, that she finds herself struggling to remember it all.

“A brain scan, a Cat-scan you have he more specific” she inches closer, only move some away whatever perfume Lance's sister is wearing stings her nose, and makes her sick.

“One that checks for pregnancy”

Veronica’s eyes are wide, her brief silence is stifling.

“Your pregnant?”

“I think-”

“Please, don't tell that boy-”

“No! Absolutely not!” the very thought of Lance and her engaging in any kind of sexual intimacy affronts her greatly.

Veronica frowns “My brother isn't a plague”

“He isn't. I'm sorry, I hadn't intended to word it that way, but I do not like your brother in that manner”

A strange emotion flickers in the older woman's eyes, but she says nothing, as she leads her towards the infirmary.

It takes quite a while, she simply wants this done with. But, she hates the table, she forced to lay on, and loathes the cool gel that's rubbed on her belly.

She feels like a science experiment, like Haggar had strapped her to one of her horrific operating tables.

But, that thought is soon moot, as the quiet beating of twin hearts assaults her ears, her silent suspicions were now longer guesses, but a reality. And one she couldn’t run from.

* * *

“Let me go!” she cries “Let me go!” but, Haggar only smiles, a mad, dilapidated smile.

Her skin is no longer blue, but as she was eons ago. Her fingers touched between the valley of her breasts, and slid painstakingly down until they reach her bare stomach.

A medical cutting device is presented to her, and cold terror gathers as sweat dripping down her bare body.

“No!” she sobs “No!” she screams, but it does little to stop Haggar, as she presses the knife to her belly, and it tears away the seams of her flesh, dark skin, then white meat, yet she feels no pain, but the horror of being cut open while she was still conscious and able to trashes and yell, is a nightmare in it of itself.

“Now let's see what we got here,” Haggar murmurs almost apathetically, prying apart her lower regions, a gaping hole in her abdomen, her hands clothed in latex, reaches in, digging around and Allura can feel every movement.

She screams, and sobs, snapping her head left and right, but her limbs are pinned back to the table by unbreakable metal bands.

“Oh, there we are.” it sounds as if she's singsonging,she rips a screaming, heaving infant from her body, covered and dripping in blood and fluids, only attached her by the umbilical cord.

He or she is purple, lilac, he or she is ever so tiny, and ever so helpless, her instincts call her to press the crying infant to her breast. She tried to reach, but she cannot.

“My baby!” she cries “give me back my child! That's my child! Give him back!” tears are bellowing down her cheeks, hot and warm. Haggar doesn't answer her, as she moves away, but she feels someone hovering over her, her eyes wide with grief snap up to greet amber, and amethyst. 

“Lotor….” their crying child sobs echo off the walls, as he bores into her silent and heavy.

“Why do cry, Allura?” he hands move, but freezes above her face in hesitation.

“My baby..” she cries miserably.

“Why do you care?”

“What-why-”

His face contorts, twisting into something she cannot name “why do you care?” he snarls “the child is partial galra.”

“Why does that matter” her voice rises.

“I thought it did” he sneers “the child right your before your eyes is as tainted, as I am to you. I'm no better than Zarkon, remember”

“No.” she shakes her head “no.”

“It is.” he says with finality.

“No.”

The baby is plopped into his arms, his eyes glances to him or she, and there's a painful gleam in his handsome face, he casts her look, as if he had lost all hope for her, and with that, and with their child he walks away.

No. No. No! No!

“Lotor!”

He doesn't answer.

“Lotor! Lotor! Lotor! Lotor!”

The door shuts behind him, as it snaps, her eyes snap wide staring into the ceiling of her room, tears spilling over the rim of her eyes, slowly, shakily her hands fall to her belly.

Their still there.

Their still there.

_We were meant to be together!_

Lotor still haunts her both inside and out.

* * *

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who said love was the bearer of all things good, it wtrough as much damage, and utter annihilation. 
> 
> A conundrum, a bizarre duality. 
> 
> Zarkon had been a man before a monster, his mother a woman of science before she became a witch.
> 
> Allura had angered him, still now, and yet his feelings remain ever so true. 
> 
> How easily it is for love to become hate. A bizarre duality indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning!: There's a slight, disturbing moment in the middle that plays into Lotor's oedipus complex, it's slightly funked up, but nothing insanely graphic!

He hated her, he didn’t think he could hate someone as much as he did his, Dear Allura, it’s what drove him, motivate him, as he struggled to repair Sincline. He toiled through heaving breaths, his body screamed, and protested, yet he continued on., ignoring the surging pain that twisted and pull at his nerve endings, it was like his body was lit on fire, but the bodily anguish matter little in the scheme of things.

Alone. Desolate. Hate. Hate. Hate.

_Your more like Zarkon than I could ever imagine!_

Hate. Hate. Hate.Hate.

He imagined, he thought madly, what he would do first. He would take everything she loved, everything she held dear. First, apprehend her precious shiny machine, destroy it, rid it of this world, strip it metal by loathsome metal. Then he’d deal with her beloved paladins, he would kill them, one by one, in front of her, right before her eyes.

It's a punishment befitting such a tragically foolish creature.

She would hate him, revile him, detest him.

Love didn’t exist, it wasn't real, and he was foolish to ever become slave to it, love was a mere idyllic fantasy, a mere illusion that brought only false comfort.

Love is what destroyed this world, his parent’s adoration for each other destroyed everything, this world, this universe, and more importantly it destroyed him.

He frothed, and foamed through much ordeal ,he had managed to restart Sincilne’s back up generator. Slow, slowly, the ship was regaining consciousness.

He could rest, then plot. Vengeance would be his, those that had wronged him will suffer the consequences. They will met whatever judgement he wroughts upon them. 

Traitors, traitors all of them, all of them, they’ll pay, they'll pay. Soon all with pay.

For now, he would rest. And wait. He could wait. Waiting was easy.

* * *

Mirrors. Mirrors surrounded him, up, down, all around, even beneath his feet, as he walked his boots didn’t crack the glass beneath his heavy boots.

He found himself silently fascinated, and perturbed. But, as he walked, the narrower it got, as if it were pointing him somewhere specific.

~Lotor~ is was a hollowed, disjointed voice. His eyes snapped around only to be greeted by his own baffled expressions, he narrowed his gaze, but continued on.

~Lotor~

The more he pressed forward, closer, and closer, and tighter and tighter the passageway got, until one mirror remained, larger than the rest, towering, and mildly intimidating.

He slanted his gaze, his face inching closer, as he did not see his reflection at first.

He reached out a hand, his fingers brushed against it, then his palm connected with the smooth, cool glass, but as quickly as it happened, his reflection flickered, like a stone sending ripples as it broke the water’s surface.

It could not be….?

A hollowed silence permeates…

A face he thought long buried, long shoved into the depths, long erased from this world.

“Zarkon!”

“No!” He snapped “No! Your dead!”

“Am I?” his words are distorted, his voice, baritone and booming echoes of the walls.

He tried to back away, but he found himself trapped, forced to stare wildly back, his back hits a wall, his hands come to brace him, as his body shook, and trembled.

“Your dead!”

“Like I said Am I?”

His teeth clenched.

“My son….”

“NO! I’m no such thing, Not to you!”

“And where’s your little princess, hmm?” his mocking tone spills salt in that open wound.

He didn’t answer, as a dark melody of laughter follows, as his massive chest heaves.

“She ended up abandoning you, didn’t she?”

“Stop!”

“Not as compassionate as you once thought.” 

“Shut up! Shut up! Allura, she-”

Allura she-she-

He remembers the painful contortions of her face, the agony, the betrayal, and it all happened to fast for him to comprehend.

“Wake up, Lotor!”

“Shut up!” he cried, piteously.

“How long will you continue to entertain these lofty fantasies of yours?”

His knees gave way, as he slumped to the floor.

“When will you see the other side isn’t greener, why do you continue to fool yourself!”

“Shut up…”he whimpers, covering his face, as his hair slide over his shoulders.

“Your more foolish than I thought!”

“I'm not like you!” his head lurched up, tears swath a path down his face, he screams like his lungs might collapse.

“I’m not like you!” Zarkon doesn't answer.

“I’m not like you!”

“I’m not Zarkon….”

“Allura, I'm not Zarkon!”

“I'm not him, why wouldn't you believe me!?” he knows she isn't there to answer, but he shouts it anyways.

“Allura! I'm not him, look at me and see that I'm not him! I'm not him!”

He shouts until, his voice gives out, and his tone simmers, and everything weaves around him, it becomes dark and dim...

He came to blearily, the lights of the ship flickering back on. He rubbed his eyes, before his arms fell back, listlessly to the floor, as his gaze bore in the ceiling.

And he thinks how painfully quiet it is.

* * *

Power was at 50 %, it still wasn’t enough to start running dianogists. So, he attempted to repair what he could, slowly and in tandem.

He had been use to the silence, he spent centuries alone, without the company and aid of others that it was like a second skin. People passed by, unconcerned by him.

Then he met Allura. Vibrant Allura, sweet Allura, kind Allura. Somehow, somewhere, he had found himself drawn to her, not because she was just a potential ally or the key to his many answers. She had that nature about her, she drew people to her, so kind and brilliant if not a bit clumsy.

He should hate her. He should, yet that boiling, feverous hatred that had buried him in this quintessence field had abated, melted, like it was flushed from his system. Despite, the lingering effects of the quintessence pouring in and out his body. He’s more surprised that he hadn’t suffered complete and utter overexposure at this point. The again he hadn’t a clue how long he had been stranded here.

Where Allura had left him…..the anger remained, as did the pang of betrayal, and yet his want didn’t quell, the more conscious he became, the more he thought of her.

It felt so empty, and cold, and lonely without her.

He thought of the way she chewed her lip when she found herself stumped, or how she stammered around her words, if she looked him into the eyes too much. Or how she fumed and bickered with her paladins.

He remembered when she would withered beneath him in their throes of passion. How her head would tilt back, how her cheeks would flush bright, or how she would shyly peer away from him.

He would always have to angle her head back towards him, to keep her eyes upon him, as he brought her to the edge of pure, unadulterated ecstasy with practiced ease.He remembered how tiny was to him, which served to remind himself to temper his strength right.

He couldn’t bare the thought of himself hurting her-

The irony wasn’t lost on him.

Which only served to spoil his empty stomach.

He thought of Narti, quiet Narti. Poor Narti. He wished she were here, he wished all of them were here, if he could not have Allura, then he wished for his generals. Ezor, Zethrid, Acxa, Narti.

He was alone, he found no shame in the tears that spilled down his face as he worked. And yet, he swallowed, as his breath hitched, attempting to push back the tears, at least he tried, before he realized , that there was nothing more he could lose at this point.

He winched, he nearly shocked himself on the damaged wires.

* * *

She suckled kisses upon his neck, as his hands gripped her bare hips, he groaned, as she bit down on a particular sensitive place, he tilted his head back.

He feels her shift, she was above him, moving to stare back at him, her eyes so soft, bright, and vibrant, constellations could be held in her wide gaze, stars could be her very crown, she was warm, like a burning star against his cold withering body.

He remembers it all, she is how he remembers her, to her supple breasts, to her powerful thighs that embrace him, to ever curve, to ever scare that adorn her dark flesh, to her hair that’s wild and free that spills over her narrow shoulders, as she leans forward.

He kisses her, he kisses her despite the bitterness tinging his tongue, despite the heart ache, despite, the thought that he should hate her, that he should despise her, he kisses her despite the anger that still thrums in his sternum.

They pull apart, his knuckles brush her cheek, gentle and tender, she holds them to her face, sealing her eyes silently shut, savoring his touch before releasing him, her lips brushing his cheek, her cold breath caress his now heated flesh, she trailed down, until she reached his ear-

But, when she spoke, her voice was low, and gravely, sinister, her skin cold, and gnarled-

And one word sent chills crawling, skittering down his rigid spine “~Lotor~”

He wakes up screaming.

* * *

He didn't sleep. Not after that. So, he labours and labours, it's a tedious, seeming never ending problem, but what else did he have to lose, or do.

His body toiled on it's own, survival is all he has, and all he knows, to live is to merely survive. It what keeps him sane in the literal hell that he was sent too.

Though, it made him wonder-His thoughts constantly playing over and over the events that lead to his predicament. He was able to find his fallacies, the errors in his ways, the cracks in his plan.

He should had come clean, he should have told her everything the moment their alliance was formed, he had been too enraptured in his secrets. To use to saying, and not saying anything at all. Perhaps, things wouldn't have ended the way that it did. Allura wouldn't have come to see him as a monster, she wouldn't have come to hate him, and he wouldn't be trap here, forced to wallow in his own miseries. 

Half-truths, lies, fantasies, idyllic dreams.

He snorts.

Trust, or lack of it was the missing key, the missing link.

Perhaps, his father was right, at least the feigned one conjured out his own fears.

He was a fool. A stupid, stupid fool.

He frowns..

Would she believe him, now….?

If he begged, and pleaded with her that everything wasn't what she come to believe, that he hadn't intended for anyone to die.

Would she believe him?

What kind of lies did Romelle feed her, at this point, would it even matter, seeing that they had after all taken her words over his.

Because she was Altean, because she was apparently strange, but innocent, a victim to a horrid monster.

Did everyone just think the worst of him automatically?

*Systems online*

Finally, he thinks dully, as he eases himself weakly into his chair, he inhales, his chest contradicted, heavy, like lead.

*Password needed to initiate diagnostics*

Would he forever be stained in everyone’s memory for simply being the son of a blood-war raged tyrant.

“Allura” he whispers.

*Access Accepted*

He was foolish creature of habit. Who wasn’t, he thought sourly.

*Running diagnostics*

Another long wait remained ahead of him.

* * *

His body was worked to the bone, he had never felt such exhaustion, but he endured, as he and Sinciline had crawled, through the skin of his teeth out that hellish nightmare, and out into open space, away from the now sealing rift, he made absolutely sure nothing would ever follow him in or out.

The Castle Ship-

It was beyond shambles, bits and pieces of it floating around.

A wave of guilt embraces him.

He had destroyed something so precious to her, a part of Altea gone, rubbish to the infinity of the very cosmos.

Much like them.

Who said love was the bearer of all things good, it rough as much damage, and utter annihilation.

A conundrum, a bizarre duality.

Zarkon had been a man before a monster, his mother a woman of science before she became a witch.

Allura had angered him, still now, and yet his feelings remain ever so true.

How easily it is for love to become hate. A bizarre duality indeed.

* * *

Lotor had many lovers.

10,000 years is a long time to live without the touch of another.

Sype. He hadn't thought of her in such a long time. His heart tightened at the thought.

“What's with that look?” Dayak peered over her shoulders, a brow lifted.

“It's nothing Dayak”

“Daydreaming again, foolish boy”

“Merely reminiscing”

She scoffed, derailing from the topic at hand “ Are you sure you wish to return to that place” she sniffed.

“I haven't a choice, the quintessence in my body is dangerously high, least I wish to lose my sanity, Oirande is my only option.”

“Why not go back to your princess”

“......She would not wish to see me, let alone help me” he grunted, another violent surge trembles through his body.

“You have a mouth, child, your so proud of using it, yet when the time calls for it, you hesitate” she chides.

Lotor frowns “I'm not longer a meager pup that I need to be scolded”

“When you stop acting like one, perhaps, until then your still child to me” she mutters off offhandedly.

“And what have I do, Dayak! I don't even know where she is, even if I did what would I say, she won't listen, she hates me, when she sees me it's Zarkon that she'll perceive, not I. So, what's the point in mending already burnt bridges.”

A odd sort of gleam flickers in his governess’ eyes “And what will not talking to her do”

“Nothing. She and Voltron made their choice, if they won't bother listening to a thing I say, if it takes one witness to hastily condemn me, then perhaps I'm better of without the..” he doesn't finish, his breath hitches, his tongue felt heavy and sour, like a bitter after taste.

He was better of without her, his heart squeezed. Frighten. The visceral pain that etched his face wasn't lost on Dayak as she regarded his abrupt silence quietly. She had a look of _I told you so_ written all over her.

10,000 years he had been without her, in just so little time, she craved out his heart-

No, she had become his very heart, she was like the freshly new blood flowing through his veins, the soft thrumming of his chest, and when she had left, his heart had left him to.

It was frightening a world without her, a steeples void, a starless night.

He was scared, his arms cradled himself, as he heaved, and swallowed thickly.

Dayak had turned from him, offering him the privacy of vulnerability.

He squeezed his eyes shut, twisting and contorting, he curled into himself. Now, he wasn't sure what was actually worse physical pain or emotional agony.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, and comments welcomed!


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